


Beneath the Surface

by JadedNightingale2308



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Game: Resident Evil 6, Resident Evil 6 rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedNightingale2308/pseuds/JadedNightingale2308
Summary: RE6 Rewrite-An apocalypse wasn't what Dylan Rossler had in mind when she woke up on June 29th, 2013. Neither was getting attacked by her best friend or watching them get shot by Leon Kennedy. She didn't ask for this. She didn't ask for Leon's protection or to find out secrets about herself she never wanted to know. She didn't ask for it, but she's sure going to get to the bottom of it.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Original Character(s), Leon S. Kennedy/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	Beneath the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking the time to check out this story. This is my first time writing for Resident Evil, and my first time writing for anything that's horror based. I do have a couple other fics posted for Doctor Who and one coming for Criminal Minds, but I've never tried to write horror before. This story is centered around Resident Evil 6 and Leon's campaign, but there is some altering to the main plot, which you'll see as we get further into the story. I know RE6 isn't everyone's favorite game (I love it, but I tend not to tell people that...) but I hope you'll give the story a chance, even if you weren't a huge fan of the game. This chapter mostly focuses on my OC, Dylan, but we'll see Leon soon. I'm grateful for any kudos or comments! I have a link to my Fanfiction Trello on my profile, where you can see current updates on which story I'm working on at any given time and where in the writing process I'm at with any of my fics. I did not label this story with any archive warnings since I'm not planning on getting super graphic with the violence but I can add the warning later if anyone feels like it should be labeled.

Chapter 1: Where is Everyone?

* * *

_~"When you know something's wrong, but don't know exactly what it is, the air around you changes."~_

_Sarah Addison Allen_

* * *

A loud groan sounded throughout the small dorm room as Dylan Rossler's face met the thin, grey carpet covering her floor. She lied there for a long moment, eyes closed and trying not to think about the amount of dirt likely caked into the floor that her roommate had failed to vacuum yet again, and waited for the pain blossoming across her face to dissipate. Finally, when the throbbing had all but disappeared, she placed her hands on either side of her shoulders and pushed herself up onto her knees.

She'd rolled out of bed. Again. Dylan was starting to think she needed a railing along the side of her bed like she had when she was a toddler. Her face couldn't handle much more of this. What was she dreaming about? Running… She had been running, but from what? It had left her with a weird feeling, a heavy fog clogging up her chest.

_Wrong_. That's what it was. Something felt _wrong_ , but Dylan couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

Whatever. It was just a feeling.

Using the side of her bed for leverage, Dylan rose to her bare feet. Normally, Amelia would be laughing-more like cackling like a hyena-her ass off, but the only sound in the room was the faint hum of their mini-refrigerator. Her roommate was nowhere to be found in their small, dark dorm room. Strange. Where could she be?

Amelia couldn't be in class, not since all classes had been canceled for two weeks. The announcement had come at the start of the Summer semester a few weeks ago, and Dylan had spent that time dreading the shut down of her Massachusetts college. President Benford, Ivy University alumnus, was planning on using the campus to give a speech, one he claimed was so monumental that it was going to forever change the political landscape of his great country. The whole campus had been evacuated, the majority of students and staff sent home for security reasons. Dylan was a graduate student in the Journalism program, but even she wasn't allowed to stay and attend any of the president's events scheduled in the next couple of days. She and Amelia should have left days ago, but Aunt Katie couldn't come for them until tomorrow. They had permission to stay in their dorm until then, but almost everything else on campus was closed down.

Dylan was getting ready to try Amelia on her cell phone when she noticed the neon pink Post-It note stuck to the brown door of their dorm room. Amelia's messy, scribbled handwriting was scrawled across it. She plucked it from the door, eyebrows scrunching together as she attempted to decipher the message.

_Needed something to eat, but didn't want to wake you! Went to Benford to find food._

"It would be easier to get something from a vending machine…" Dylan sighed. The dining room in Benford Hall, one of the main buildings on campus, was probably closed off, what with the president's banquet being held in there first thing the next morning. He was supposed to be giving a speech later that night; there had been some kind of rumor going around earlier that morning about it being on the football field. With the banquet tomorrow, Dylan doubted the kitchen was making food for the students left on campus, or that Amelia would even be let into the dining hall.

Speaking of food… A growl rumbled low in her stomach, reminding Dylan that she hadn't eaten anything since dinner last night. It was about seven PM now, almost a full twenty-four hours since that bowl of microwaved Kraft Mac n' Cheese. The idea of breakfast had made her nauseous this morning, and she'd spent most of the day sleeping off the cold that was kicking her butt. She was used to being sick, but it had been a while since a cold had made her this tired.

Maybe Amelia had succeeded in finding food. Either way, Dylan needed something to eat. Worst case, there were plenty of vending machines with Pop-Tarts and granola bars to shakedown.

Looking down at herself, she debated whether or not she should bother getting changed. She was still wearing her pajamas from last night: a pair of grey plaid flannel pants that were slightly oversized on her, a burgundy Ivy University t-shirt, and her moccasin slippers. It wasn't as if anyone was going to see her, and even then it wasn't as if they would care. Only select second-year students in the Journalism grad program were chosen to attend the president's events. As a first-year, she'd had no shot of being considered and, therefore, had no true reason to look presentable for anyone.

Ultimately, Dylan decided to keep the pajamas and added a bralette beneath her t-shirt. Just in case. There was a brief thought of bringing her Ivy University sweat-jacket but she decided against it. She was already sweating, a sure sign that she probably had a fever. Whatever; that was a problem for later. After checking to make sure she had her cell phone and her keys, she left the room to track down Amelia.

The dorms were quiet as Dylan made her way down the stairs of her building from her room on the fifth floor to the ground. How many students were left, besides the two of them? She knew they weren't the only ones. It was an odd thing for the building to be so quiet, but she was grateful, at the very least, for the fact that their loud, party-hard neighbors weren't keeping her awake this week.

Benford Hall was right on the other side of the quad from the dorm, a convenient feature when she was hungry. The sun was just beginning to set as she began the walk across the courtyard. The darkening blue sky was filled with soft shades of pink and red. It was pretty, one of the nicer sunsets lately that wasn't filled with rain or clouds. There was no breeze, yet Dylan shivered as she walked. The scenery couldn't have been more picturesque. So, why did she feel so uneasy? The sense she'd had from her nightmare that something was wrong hadn't gone away. Goosebumps raised along her arms and hair prickled on the back of her neck. She rubbed at her arms, trying to soothe her anxious skin and wishing she had brought the sweat-jacket after all.

Maybe it was just her cold putting her on edge. She hated being sick, even if it was almost a constate state of being for her. But… That wasn't quite it, either. Dylan was about halfway across the quad when she finally put her finger on it.

The silence. Five years she had been attending Ivy University, and not once had she ever walked across this courtyard with such _silence_ before. Even during off-season, like the Summer semester, there would normally still be plenty of people around. Sure, there were fewer students the last week because of the evacuation order, but not _everyone_ was gone. Certain students were allowed to attend the events, several staff had stayed behind, not to mention all of the secret service agents and security that had been brought in because of the president's arrival. She hadn't been able to go five feet in the last week without seeing some guy in a suit with a headset. Where were they all now?

The first thing Dylan was aware of when she reached the manor-styled building and stepped inside was the sheer quiet there, too. Some small instinct inside of her hollered that this wasn't right. Not only was Benford Hall where the president was having his banquet in the morning, but it was also where he was holding his office. It was surprising she was even allowed in the building. It shouldn't have been this quiet. Where were all of the president's staff?

Where was Amelia? All Dylan wanted to do was find her best friend and go back to their dorm room to wait for Aunt Katie to pick them up tomorrow morning. She didn't like this, not one bit.

"Hello?" Her voice echoed off the walls, giving her the impression that she was so very, very small. "Hello? Amelia? Anyone?" No one answered. "Amelia, where are you?"

The dining room was closer to the front of the building, and she'd come in through the back. As Dylan made her way through the long hallways, the dark wallpaper feeling particularly ominous, she found herself almost tiptoeing across the hardwood floors. Each creak of the old floorboards had her holding her breath and she jumped twice when she caught her reflection in the glass display cases that lined the walls, filled with sports memorabilia and alumni achievements. "Chill, Dylan, you're sick, not crazy," she kept her voice low despite her own reassurances, afraid of disturbing the quiet or, possibly worse, finding out what it was so quiet in the first place.

She released a slow, steadying breath when she turned the next corner and found the doors to the dining room. "Amelia, you better be in here."

The sound of one side of the double door opening was like a scream in the silence, and Dylan felt her heart sink when she realized this room was just as quiet and empty as the rest of the building. Students usually ate in here, but now it was set up for a formal banquet. The tables had been shifted into four long columns sectioned out into three rows, but the room was more of a mess than she had expected. Maybe they hadn't finished setting up yet. That made sense; there was still plenty of time before the banquet in the morning.

The door closed behind her with a _click_ that had her glancing back briefly. Dylan could see the stairs in the front of the room that led up to the second floor, up to where the Dean's office was, but there were several stacks of chairs taller than her and a table, oddly overturned, blocking her from being able to walk that way. Her only choice was to move along the table to her left further into the dining room. Only about half of the tables, from what she could see, were covered in cloths. The few chairs that were placed at tables were strewn awkwardly about and she had to sidestep some, along with burgundy and navy streamers, the school's colors, that had been discarded on the floor. This felt like more than just the mess of setting up.

Even though the kitchen was located at the back of the room, opposite the staircase, she couldn't hear any of the kitchen staff. They should be there getting ready for the banquet. Again, Dylan couldn't help but wonder, where was everyone? There should be kitchen staff, secret service, security…. _Someone_. There should be _someone_.

At the end of the table, Dylan turned to walk around it, aiming to head up the stairs. Surely, someone had to be up there. The Dean, his secretary, hell, even the president. Was this some kind of nightmare where every single person had left and didn't let her in on the secret? Was she still sleeping somehow?

A flash of movement near the stairs caught her attention and her eyes snapped to a head standing at the bottom in front of the tower of chairs. "Finally," Dylan breathed, glad that she wasn't alone any longer. Whoever they were, they were _someone._ "Hello?" When the person didn't turn, she tried again. "Excuse me? Where is everybody?" Were they deaf? Why weren't they responding?

Making her way up the other side of the table toward the stairs, Dylan took the person, a girl she realized, in. The girl's black hair, an unkempt mess of waves, looked familiar, but it was the royal blue hoodie with _Scotch Plains_ printed on the back that made the connection. "Amelia?" Scotch Plains was Amelia's hometown, and that was her favorite hoodie. Dylan would have recognized it anywhere. "Amelia?" she called a second time, louder.

As Dylan grew closer, the impending sense that something was wrong grew even stronger, making her heart pound in her chest. Amelia wasn't responding, wasn't even turning her head to acknowledge that she could hear Dylan's voice. Her head was tilted loosely, hanging just above her left shoulder, and her body was swaying side to side like she couldn't keep a sense of balance. Was she drunk? No, that didn't mean sense. The only bar on campus was closed, and Dylan knew Amelia hadn't left campus without her.

"Meels," Dylan said softly, having reached her best friend's side. "Are you okay?" She was a journalist, not a medical student, but even she could tell that Amelia was definitely _not_ okay. Amelia's skin, normally a light brown, had gone pale, taking on a concerning grey hue. Her blue eyes were tinged with red, but not puffy as if she'd been crying, and stared off into space, unfocused. Her eyes looked at Dylan, but gave the impression that they weren't actually seeing her. Dylan waved a hand in Amelia's face. The second time she waved, Amelia's head shifted, her eyes widening ever so slightly in recognition.

"D…" Amelia's voice was rough and thick, and she inhaled a shallow breath before trying again. "Dylan…"

Dylan reached a hand out toward her friend. Had Amelia caught her cold? She wasn't immunocompromised like Dylan was, but she couldn't figure any other reasons why Amelia would look so sickly. As soon as Dylan touched a finger to her hand, however, Amelia jolted a step back. A low hiss escaped her lips and her eyes squeezed shut. "Amelia, talk to me. What's wrong? What happened?"

Amelia didn't open her eyes as she breathed out a shaky, " _Run_ …"

The room flashed a bright white as a streak of lightning cracked across the sky, followed by a boom of thunder that made the whole building buzz. Dylan jumped, her head quickly turning to look back over her shoulder at the windows along the top of the wall behind her. A gasp caught in her throat as another bolt of lightning flashed in her eyes. No longer shades of pink and red, the sky outside the windows had turned a dark and menacing grey. The forecast hadn't called for storms. How had this one rolled in so fast? She just hoped they could make it back to their dorm before it started to downpour and they got soaked. Could Amelia even make it back? She didn't look so good.

A low gravelly cough and a wet thud, a sound like dropping a pile of damp towels on a hard floor, had her turning back around. "What's-"

Dylan's arms went up instinctively as Amelia lunged at her. One hand went to Amelia's shoulder, pushing her back, while the other one blocked a forearm against her chest. "What the hell?" Amelia's teeth snapped and a hand, nails painted blue only yesterday in boredom, swiped at Dylan's face before she managed to push the girl off. Amelia stumbled backward, knocking into the tower of chairs behind her. Like dominoes, the chairs began to topple, one by one, until several of them crashed to the floor. The loud noise distracted Amelia's attention long enough for Dylan to regain her footing. "What are you doing?"

Turning from the mess of chairs, Amelia's gaze found her roommate once more. Her breathing had turned into a shallow sort of wheezing and, instead of words, an almost in-human snarl erupted from her, like a lion locating her prey on one of those _Animal Planet_ documentaries Aunt Katie loved to watch. Dylan saw the moment Amelia pushed off of the tower behind her and stepped to the side as the girl lunged a second time, circling to keep Amelia in her sights. Just as Aunt Katie had taught her, Dylan raised her arms, palms open, in defense. "Amelia, stop it! What's the matter with you?"

Amelia whirled, surprisingly fast for someone so pale, and Dylan tried to catch her eyes. What she saw in her best friend's eyes sucked the air right out of her lungs, leaving her speechless. There was no recognition in Amelia's blue eyes, which were even redder now than they had been a moment ago. Though they flicked wildly from side to side, the light in her eyes was gone, replaced with a lifeless, glassy haze. "Amelia…" No, Dylan shook her head. This wasn't Amelia, not the one she knew. "What's wrong with you?"

She managed to dodge and sidestep when Amelia charged again, using the momentum to propel herself in the direction of the staircase. "Help!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. If she could make it up the stairs, surely there would be someone up there. But, if someone was there, why hadn't they come yet to see what the commotion was? "Help me!"

Dylan's hand reached the railing, and then her traction was gone, her slipper sliding on a streamer on the hardwood floor. She managed to turn at the last second, letting her side take the impact of the fall. As the air was forced from her lungs, she ignored the pain radiating through her ribcage and rolled onto her back.

Amelia was there in an instant, a blur of speed keeping her pressed into the floor. Dylan couldn't scream as she filled her chest with a painful breath. It was all she could do to plant one hand against a shoulder and the other on the side of Amelia's face as the girl's teeth snapped again, mere inches from Dylan's nose.

Options, what were her options? Instincts from years of training with Aunt Katie had various scenarios playing out in her head. There wasn't enough leverage for her to push Amelia off, and she couldn't take her hands off Amelia long enough to feel for anything around her on the floor that might be useful. Her legs were pinned down and no one was coming. If they hadn't come by now, they weren't coming at all.

A disgusted cry tore out of Dylan's throat as she pushed on Amelia's cheek and the skin there tore with the movement. Her skin felt like paper-mache in Dylan's fingers, coming off in her palm. It fell from her grasp to the floor, blood covering her fingers now as she continued to try and find something to hold on Amelia's face. Teeth snapped again, barely missing the side of Dylan's face. If Amelia felt the pain of the missing chunk of skin, she didn't show it.

Amelia continued to claw at Dylan, who didn't have enough hands to keep both her body and her arms at bay. As Dylan's hand slipped from the side of Amelia's face a second time, she felt fingernails catch her forearm, digging and tearing into her skin. The pain was blinding for a second and Dylan screamed, thrashing. Something wet landed on her cheek, dripping down onto her neck.

"Amelia… Amelia, please, don't do this," Dylan's voice cracked, pleading with her best friend. The pain in her arm doubled in protest as she placed her hand on Amelia's other shoulder. "Amelia, this isn't you! Listen to me!"

Amelia was drooling now, her eyes completely bloodshot. Her skin seemed to be falling apart in clumps, spreading from where the skin had been ripped off of her cheek. Dylan didn't recognize the crazed, dead look on her best friend's face at all. The girl who might as well have been her sister was nowhere to be found.

She snarled again, this time a mocking sort of sound as Dylan's strength began to fade. She could feel her arms starting to weaken and her elbows beginning to bend. Amelia's face inched closer, mouth open and teeth aiming to sink into the side of her neck. Dylan squeezed her eyes shut, unable to do anything more.

Somewhere above her, a door slammed open. A noise, a bang, rang out through the room, and everything stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Again, I very much appreciate any favorites, follows, or reviews! If you want to stay up to date on which story I'm working on, check out the link to my Trello on my profile.


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